An AlterD Ego
by sammy123348
Summary: Ok so i decided to rewrite an alter ego so this is the new version, im still keeping the old one up tho. John Watson has a secret; a secret that not even his best friend, The great detective Sherlock Holmes, knows. John Watson, the ex-army doctor, is a murderer. He has killed multiple people and has yet to be caught. Will he ever tell Sherlock about his past and why hes killed? AU
1. The Dead Girl

**Ok so the first chapter to this version is exactly the same as the other one because i loved it so much, and parts of chapter 2 stayed as well but that one was mostly rewritten completely. I really hope that you guys like this one, ive been working really hard on it. I had some people tell me that i moved the other one to fast and i somewhat agreed so i wanted to make a second version, i was going to get rid of the the first version completely but i couldnt bring myself to get rid of it. **

**warnings: minor violence**

**Beta; none, but wanting one ;)**

**and with that lets begin.**

* * *

John was a trained killer thanks to the army. He had never actually killed anyone while he was out in the field but he knew how to if he needed to. The killing didn't start until he was back home in London after he was honorably discharged for being shot. The first time it happened John was in the middle of a flash back, he thought that he was back in Afghanistan being shot at. He had instinctively reached for his gun, (the gun he always carried with him) to shoot back at the enemy. The poor girl didn't even see it coming. She was walking in front of John, minding her own business. She was heading to work; she was already late as it was. John had shot her almost point blank in the back of the head.

The sound of actual gunfire brought John back to reality. It was then that he realized what had happened, what he had done. He couldn't believe it. Had he really just killed someone? His gun still raised in his hands, he began shaking. He wasn't quite sure what to do exactly; he most certainly did not want to go to prison right after got back from the war. He had finally found a flat mate, even if he was bit eccentric for John's liking. Nonetheless he liked his new flat mate because he was smart. Smart enough to take one look at someone and know everything about them. He also wasn't afraid to tell you either. John had thought that that was really cool.

John stood over the body of the dead girl thinking about what to do. He decided that as bad as it was he was going to leave the body. He made sure that he didn't leave any trace evidence that would link him to this girl. After that he phoned DI Lastrade telling him that he had just found a dead body near his flat. John had decided that his story would be that he had been walking to the store to get some groceries (the flat was somehow always empty) when he had found the girl's body. He knew that this would be a plausible enough lie, one that he knew Sherlock would even believe because John really was headed to the store. Lastrade even believed him, because as far as he knew, John was a good guy.

Lastrade had phoned Sherlock to come look at the crime scene, but it just made Sherlock mad because there was not enough evidence. Nothing to incriminate anyone, it looked as if the girl was followed; shot and the killer immediately ran away. But there were no foot prints, no fingerprints, no nothing. This made Sherlock livid. He hated crime scenes like this. So needless to say the crime went to cold cases. Sherlock hated cold cases; he hated leaving a crime unsolved. He also hated not having answers. John on the other hand felt a whole hell of a lot better knowing that the case went cold. John wasn't even a suspect.

As much as John felt guilty he refused to admit to murder.


	2. Memories

Months had passed since the murder happened and things were just as normal as before. John was even beginning to forget about what had happened. Of course he hadn't told anyone and he was never going to. It was most certainly not going to happen again, he would make sure of that.

John and Sherlock had just finished a case and were headed to Angelo's for dinner. Neither of them had eaten anything since the start of the case, two days ago. Needless to say John was starving. It was hard to keep up with Sherlock and his weird habits, but John was finally getting used to it. He was getting used to the fact that if they were on a case he didn't get much sleep, and he was getting used to the idea of not eating a whole lot while on the case either. Upon arrival, they were seated at their usual, the one next to the front window. Sherlock liked sitting here because if he got bored he could watch out the window. Angelo brought out a candle and a bottle of wine with their menus. Sherlock of course didn't need to look at the menu, he had it memorized and he already knew what he wanted. John on the other hand did not have it memorized, despite the fact that his was really the only place that they ever ate at. It had become their thing, once they finished a case they would always go out to Angelo's.

"I lied, John." Sherlock said turning to look at his friend.

"Hmm…..what? Wait, when? I'm confused…" John replied only half listening; he was still trying to decide what he wanted to eat.

"Don't make me repeat myself, you know what I said. I lied to you when we were on our first case the study in pink, as you call it. The first time that we came here, to Angelo's, I said that I consider myself married to my work, I also never stated what my preference was either but I'll tell you now, that yes I am indeed gay. I'm telling this to you now because I think that I have met someone."

"Sherlock, I have known from day one that you were gay, unfortunately for you, it was kind of obvious, well to me anyways. I'm happy that you trust me enough to tell me that thought, as I'm sure you probably haven't told anyone other than Mycroft."

"Uh…..well Mycroft actually doesn't know. The man himself is gay and yet he doesn't realize that I am too. And how was it obvious that I was gay? I've hidden that my entire life. The only person that knows is my mum."

"It just was, I don't know how to explain it. Wow, your own brother doesn't even know. That honestly should be more surprising than it actually is. When Harry came out, I was the first one to know. I was the only person she could truly trust as a child…" John suddenly was reminded of when he and his sister were younger; John was always trying to protect his only sister from their abusive father. He didn't like the idea of his only daughter being gay; he always said it was against nature and that it was just wrong. John shook his head trying to clear the memory. "So who's the lucky guy?"

"I'd really rather not say, I'm not even sure that he's gay. I've only ever seen him with women."

"Okay…..so don't tell me his name, tell me what you can about him. Like how did you two meet? What about him grabbed your attention?

"Umm…..this isn't weird at all, talking about a guy I like with my _male_ flat mate. I met him while I was working on a case with the New Scotland Yard. He is very kind; he actually gets me, unlike most people. And best yet, he doesn't call me a freak. In fact he's actually complimented me before." Sherlock was practically glowing talking about this man.

"Dear God! You've fallen in love with Lestrade haven't you! Honestly, I don't know if I could hand the two of you dating! That would be just too weird. But hey if you love him I say go for it, I won't stop you. I'll think it's weird but I won't stop you."

"WHAT?! God no! Lestrade is an idiot! No the man I am interested in is actually quite smart."

"Well congratulations then Sherlock! I hope that whoever he is, feels the same way and that the two of you end up together."

The two men finished their dinner and John paid for the meal as Sherlock hailed a cab. The car ride home was quiet; both of them were tired from being up for three days straight. If the car ride had been any longer than it was poor John would have fallen asleep, accidently leaning on Sherlock. It was late when they arrived back at the flat. Both were tired enough that they didn't even bother with saying goodnight to each other. They just simply went their separate ways to their rooms and went to bed.

* * *

"_Help me John! JOHN! He's going to get me again. Please help me!" _

"_Shut up, you stupid child! This is all your fault." '_Smack'_ John's father had hit his only daughter. _

"_Father Stop! Stop hurting her! Stop it!_

"STOP!" John yelled as woke from the nightmare. Sitting up in bed he realized he was covered in sweat, he also realized where he was. He was safe and in his own room. "It was just a dream, thank God." He said aloud to himself. John looked at the clock, four am. Four short hours of sleep is all he was able to get. He knew that he would not be able to sleep, not after that kind of dream. He hated remembering his childhood. It was full of pain and misery, suffering. That was the only reason he joined the army, to get away from the pain, he wanted to be able to help people. He knew that if he had stayed, that dream would never come true. His father had tried beating the idea itself out of him on many occasions. His father always told him he was useless, wouldn't amount to anything. John was just a waste of space. His father hated children, especially his own. One was gay and the other a coward; to him they both were pathetic excuses for human beings. Even when John enlisted, his father still told him he was useless. He even had the audacity to tell John that he should just go get blown up. John hated his father with every cell in his body.


End file.
